Goodnight, My Light
by L'Archel-Hotishi
Summary: In 1897, Loki is hired to investigate a case involving three missing girls and stumbles upon a castle belonging to a Count named Heimdall.  While he expects a difficult investigation, he has no idea of the dangers within the castle's walls.  Dracula/MLR.
1. Black of Night

Title: Goodnight, My Light

Pairing: Loki x Heimdall

Rating: K

Disclaimer: Dracula was written by Bram Stoker and Malora was created by Kinoshita. I claim no rights. :D

Author's note: Can it be…a Dracula themed Loki x Heimu story? Damn straight it is. So, I'll be updating ACM's chapters and adding parodies like this one to spice up the content. So, please enjoy the first of many literary one-shots!

**Jonathan**: Loki

**Dracula**: Heimdall

**Mina**: Angerboda

**Brides of Dracula**: Urd, Verdandi and Skuld

-**START**-

The headline of the newspaper read in bolded text, _**Three Sisters Missing! The Hunt Reaches A Climax, June 13**__**th**__**, 1897. **_

_Three women from the nearby __Buzău Pass__ have been missing from their home since March 27__th__, 1897. The girls, all in their early-twenties, vanished into the forest outside Valghita, Transylvania three months ago. Many townspeople saw them leave the city, but no one reported speaking to them on the evening of the disappearance._

"_It's very bizarre," a woman reported. "I've never seen them act so strangely. It's simply like they walked out of their house and vanished! I'm very frightened for myself and my children…I'm afraid to let them go anywhere near that forest!" _

_Search parties that hunted the wooded area for evidence of the missing sisters reported seeing a blue flame between the trees, fading slowly as they approached it. Other witnesses reported hearing hooves and the sound of a coach on a gravel road, which is not known to exist in that area. It is still unclear if any of these strange happenings can be linked to the girls' disappearance. _

_Every building in the vicinity of the town has been searched diligently, excluding a castle even further within the woods, whose inhabitant is still unknown to the public._

"_He never comes out of that castle," a male traveler reported. "I've passed by the manor numerous times and have probably only seen him once or twice. He's a strange fellow, and I wouldn't be surprised if he was holding them hostage himself!"_

_Norwegian detective Loki Laufiyarson is set to finally reopen the case and investigate the disappearance later tonight after a witness came forth and reported another sighting of a blue flame near the Olt River. _

_Despite the break in the case, there is still no trace of the three sisters to this day._

XOXOXOXO

Loki entered the carriage hesitantly, mentally preparing for the case ahead. He was becoming increasing agitated with approaching darkness and howling of ferocious sounding wolves in the distance. Granted, he wasn't scared by either, but the setting sun created an ambiance that could have probably made him fear anything.

The cunning detective was on his way to a castle close to the Romanian town of Valghita to investigate the disappearance of three women and claims of mysterious activity in the area. The count of this castle also desired a deal concerning a transaction of real estate, but this wasn't Loki's department, so he let it pass.

The people in the neighboring tows already told me that no one is aware of who lives in the castle, Loki thought to himself as the carriage bumped along the path. But how is that possible? Wouldn't someone have met him at least once before? Had one of his interviewee's had the gall to lie to him?

During the long trip up the gravel roads and through cold, unrelenting mists, the usually tolerant Loki was growing exhausted of the rude demeanor of the coachman. The driver hadn't said a word to him the entire time.

Sticking his head of blonde hair out the window, he slapped a gloved palm against the door in anger.

"Excuse me! Where in the world are we? I told you earlier to tell me if we were getting close to this castle, and you haven't muttered a sound!" he shouted. The man didn't even bother to turn around to acknowledge him. The driver merely stared ahead bleakly, the only indication that he was even alive evident by the occasional twitch of the reigns. Even the horses, black as charcoal, were unusually silent. They had been traveling for hours, so he at least expected a whinny or neigh from their mouths, but nothing. They were as soundless as ghosts.

Loki huffed in irritation and hit the carriage harder. "Hey! Can you at least give me some indication of where we are?"  
>The trickster was annoyed with the thickness of the night air. It was dark and musty, nothing like the fresh air of the stereotypical outdoors. There were only a few candles on either side of the cart to light their way down the roads, each emanating a small halo of light.<p>

"Soon, detective…" an elderly voice crackled. As the coachman turned, Laufiyarson could see a thick, gray moustache and wrinkled eyes. He lifted a thin finger to his lips and shushed him. "Soon."

He growled. "I don't appreciate being belittled, if that's what you're trying to do," Loki said bluntly, his baby-blue eyes turning an electric, icy hue. "Once we're close to the castle, just let me out. I'll go alone!"

He nestled back in the carriage and crossed his arms, his wool coat starting to become ineffective against the approaching cold. Not to mention the fact that he was also starving. He had no idea how long he'd been on the road traveling, but it had probably been close to 48 hours since he'd had his last meal.

Still, he couldn't help but be a little excited. The castle was apparently dangerous, considering the vast amount of disappearances and strange activity. Some even reported seeing blue flames in the forest nearby. That was reason enough for the mischievous deity to be fascinated. He missed his life back home, no doubt, but even an ambiguously located haunted house was better than being stranded with a senile coachman in the cold woods.

Suddenly, the glossy, black cart jerked to a stop and the blonde man fell to the floor. As he lay crumpled against the bench he saw the elderly coachman jump down from his seat and slowly walk towards the woods. What the hell is he doing, Loki thought to himself he watched the coachman jump down from the coach.

"What…what's going on? Get back here!" he ordered sternly. "I said I was going to leave, **not you**!"  
>The elderly man's gangly form slowly teetered into the forest, not even looking back at his abandoned cart or horses. Apparently the threats were ineffective. "Come back! I'll press charges against you!" he yelled, the obscenities that would have normally followed interrupted by strident howling. For the first time, the horses actually indicated life by shuffling their muddied hooves in fright. The detective turned to see that ravenous wolves had found their way to the carriage. Each one was growling menacingly, fangs barred and glinting in the light from the candles. Loki backed himself up against the cart, hands groping the reigns desperately in an attempt to control the panicking horses. "H-Hey…don't do this," he warned the beasts. "I actually like wolves a lot. Don't go and spoil it…"<p>

The dogs bent down on their front legs in preparation to lunge at him. Their eyes were bright yellow, glazed over with a thin veil animalistic rage. With a final growl, the beasts leapt into the air and Loki sank to the ground, arms covering his face.

He thought he caught a glimpse of a blue flame in the distance as he went down. It flickered softly between two shaded trees, and then vanished.

When seconds passed without a searing pain, the Fire God opened his eyes shakily. The elderly coachman was bowing before him. All the wolves had mysteriously evacuated. It was like the animals had vanished into thin air. "Ah…what…?" Loki muttered, fingers dancing upon the edge of his lips in thought. "What…was that?"

"My apologies, sir. I had some business to attend to for a brief moment. Please, we're coming up on the Count's castle. We'll be there in a few minutes," the elderly man remarked with a click of his silver pocket watch, glancing over the time briefly. He stuffed the device back into his pocket and turned to his carriage. He then mounted his seat atop the cart as if nothing had ever happened.

Loki was now frightened. _Who_ or _what_ was this man? The sleepy grandfather figure before him had apparently just made these vicious wolves disappear like some kind of magician. Not to mention that flame. But it wasn't just any flame; it was the blue flame that villagers had reported seeing around the castle. He obeyed the man's request and settled back in the carriage. Seconds later, a whip cracked, and the horses began to gallop again. The cart bumped along the road and the cold wind flooded into the wagon's windows. Either the chill of the night was dramatically increasing or the coachman was driving faster.

Now the element of danger had begun to sink in. He swallowed the lump in his throat and stayed composed. There was still a lack of evidence that the Count was involved with the vanishing women, which is why he was sent to investigate. Loki hoped he was a decently nice man, despite first impressions. He was in no mood to deal with anything more blood-thirsty than those mangled wolves from before.

Little did he know that they'd be the least of his worries.

XOXOXOXO

After a quick catnap, a harsh bump in the road sent the trickster's head colliding roughly with the roof. After a long stream of curses, he finally maneuvered his dizzy head out the window and squinted through the inky blackness. He quickly glimpsed at the pocket watch attached to his coat pocket. It was early in the morning, around 2:03 a.m.

"Are we almost there?" he asked over the sound of pounding hooves.

"_Sssshhhh_…." The elderly man ushered, his bony finger pressed against his white lips. Loki's eyes narrowed in annoyance at the persistent and creepy silence the coachman insisted upon. The horses rounded a sharp curve and began to travel uphill. The moonlight began to illuminate the faint silhouette of towers stretching upwards into the sky.

The sky was so smoky and black that the god actually rubbed his eyes and his temple to ease his straining eyes. He thought that he had to be imagining the size of the castle….it was the tallest building he'd ever seen. Nobody he'd ever met owned a place of such grandeur.

"I'm impressed so far…"

Loki licked his lips with delight.

When he heard the metallic rattling of gates in the distance, the Fire God knew they'd reached his destination. Loki readied his luggage and sighed deeply. He hated to impose if his host happened to be asleep, but he was damned if he'd sleep outside on a dirty canopy of leaves.

The coach finally drew to a stop and the doors opened. The elderly man dismounted and opened the door, allowing the detective to remove himself from the wagon. Loki yawned and dusted off his clothes before stepping into the frosty night air. As he stared up at the stateliness of the palace, the weather was a subject quickly forgotten. All evidence of bitterness was gone.

The sheer size of the chateau was remarkable, and the way the gray stone glittered in the moonlight was nothing short of beautiful.

"T-Thanks. I'm sorry I was so rude to you…" Loki said politely, intending to apologize for his rash behavior. When he turned back to toss his driver a smile, he was already gone. This puzzled Loki greatly. He even took a few awkward steps down the cobblestone driveway to try and spy the carriage. "H-Hey, old man! Are you there?"

An owl responded faintly, but no human.

A chuckle from the inner corridor startled the detective. "Pardon me," a suave voice chimed shortly after. Loki swiveled around to see a figure standing before the front door. He was a tall, handsome man in a dashing suit and long, wool cape to protect him from the chilliness of the mountains. He carried a lantern with him to guide his slender figure through the darkness. As the fire danced across his hand, Loki could see his skin was a pasty white color, as if it had never been kissed by the sun.

His face was also quite distracting. The flames barely illuminated it, but in contrast to his snow-colored skin, he had eyes as red as blood. A hood covered the man's hair, but the strands that danced along his cheekbones were a brilliant shade of purple. "My driver can be quite odd at times. Don't feel uncomfortable."

Odd? That was it? That was all he had to say about the man? Already there were red flags popping up left and right. Any decent person would have left that second, but as detectives usually were, Loki was anything but.

He doesn't sound very threatening, Loki thought, still taking in the man's appearance. While his voice was masculine and comforting, there were other oddities about his exterior that caught Loki off guard other than his paleness. For example, when he smirked coldly at his arrival, his canines were abnormally sharp, like fangs. His fingernails also appeared to have an almost claw-like appearance and, as he pulled off his hood, the trickster saw his ears were also pointed.

"I'm the master of this castle," the red-eyed man said with a bow. "I understand that you've come to investigate the myths of disappearing women from this area. If I can be of any assistance, please let me know at once," he said graciously. The Count went forward and seized the trickster's luggage with his extra hand, as if he was in a hurry to get inside. "Please, come. You must be exhausted."

"You're the Count?" Loki interrogated suddenly, eyebrow rising into a blond crescent. He wasn't exactly sure what he'd been expecting, but this certainly wasn't what was currently standing before him. He expected to see some overweight, Hungarian warlord or maybe an elderly grandfather like the coachman. Loki knew for a fact he had not been expecting such a handsome man. "Oh, pardon me…I didn't mean that."

"I understand…I don't exactly look like a Count, do I?" he asked with an understanding air, as if he'd dealt with this stereotype with countless other individuals. "Please, come this way. I've prepared you some food. We can talk about the case at dinner, but when dawn comes, I'm afraid I must tend to other business."

Loki hurried after him, for he walked briskly, as if he didn't want to be seen outside with the detective. The purple-haired man strutted down the halls, leading him to a dining room table that was set with glittering silverware and an ample amount of delicacies. "I trust you haven't eaten, please," he urged, motioning towards a chair. "I'll serve you whatever you desire."

Loki was skeptical of his kindness, especially towards a stranger he hardly knew, but accepted the offer gratefully. The detective was starving and, as the Count would soon discover, he could devour as much food as an army if that's what he needed to silence his belly. He took a piece of bread and adorned it was a thick layer of margarine. The Count sat at the opposite end of the table, fascinated with his newest visitor.

"So, what is your name? If you don't mind me asking…there must be something I can call you besides your rank," the Fire God asked with a full mouth, causing the red-eyed man to cringe.

"…My name is Heimdall. I have no restrictions upon the use of my name, however, there are a few other rules I want to make very clear before you begin your _temporary_ stay here."

Loki noticed the significant amount of stress he'd places on the work 'temporary' and couldn't help himself from choking a little on the water he'd just sucked down his throat. "Alright, _Heimdall_. Elaborate," he said with noticeable bite. An irritated groan escaped Heimdall's lips. The trickster god had the gall not only to stuff himself with food, but also to press him like he was a criminal on trial. The polite façade he'd tried to put on for his guest was quickly wearing thin. Even worse, the first rays of dawn were no doubt approaching.

"I'll be blunt. Do not venture outside your room without my knowledge," he warned harshly with a sharp glint, crimson eyes prickly as daggers. Loki flinched at the rule and was tempted to openly object to the ridiculous request, but before he could get a sentence out of his mouth, Heimdall continued. "Second, don't ever carry any reflective surface with you around this castle. There are no mirrors here, so if you have one, keep it in your room. Third, you may not leave the castle until I agree to let you go."

The blonde man felt insulted. These are restrictions one might give to a child or convicted criminal, not a prestigious detective like himself.

"Heimdall, if I may, I'm not your prisoner. How am I supposed to investigate this case when you are treating me like a convict?"

Loki smirked at Heimdall accusingly. His fingers danced cutely across the tabletop. Loki's index finger located the rim of the chalice and slid along the top to create a beautiful ring, the song radiating throughout the dining room. "I'm sorry, but your actions make you seem extremely guilty," he chimed, his accusations obviously striking a nerve. The Count ground his fangs together and took a long swag of wine. Loki continued callously, "I don't know why you even tried to be nice to me if you knew why I was here. When you told me to not feel uncomfortable at the gate, I had a feeling you had some connection." Loki leaned over the table and elevated himself so that he was above the watchman. Staring down upon his pray was a strategy he was more than excited to try out on the pompous Count. "Are you? Guilty, I mean."

Heimdall's glaring eyes begged the question of what connection he was talking about. The trickster was also tempted to bring up the topic concerning the blue flames outside the castle walls, but held back. Why show your opponent your hand when the game has just begun?

"Guilty, no…follow my rules and you're stay will be lengthy enough for you to see the error of your logic, _detective_."

Then Loki realized something. The only way he could solve this case and gather evidence was if he kept a close eye on the Heimdall. In other words, the outcome of the case weighed on his time inside the castle. The only way he could stay inside the building was if he obeyed the ludicrous rules Heimdall had mercilessly imposed on him. It was a disgusting paradox.

The rules greatly hindered the trickster's ability to gather evidence to solve said case. Heimdall wasn't an idiot, much to Loki's dismay. He'd found an actual opponent to match his advanced mind.

"You said you had business at dawn? Well, then I'll take my leave now. I trust there is a room ready for me?" he asked as he lifted a brow and sneered, hoping that his unrelenting arrogance would lead the watchman into a peaceful surrender. It was evident, however, by the sinister way that Heimdall gesticulated down the hall and hissed in agreement that the battle would be long and tedious.

-**END**-

I'm part Hungarian and part French / Dutch (mostly Hungarian), so when I tell people this, they always ask me the same question.

"Wait, you're Hungarian? OMG, are you a vampire!"

I guess the secret's out. XD;

Yeah, totally, I'm a vampire. That's why I love the sun and have no problem going near crosses or touching silver.

R&R and I won't suck your blood and sparkle like a disco ball!


	2. Day of Fright

Title: Goodnight, My Light

Rating: K (Some language)

Pairing: Loki x Heimu

Disclaimer: I don't own Dracula or Matantei Loki. Please only associate me with the fan fiction, not the characters or plot basis.

Author's Notes: While this is a Dracula x MaLoRa fanfic, I'm also taking hints from Amnesia: The Dark Descent. I plan on including more notes and intricate puzzles for our detective so solve, but I tend to follow the format of the Bram Stoker novel loosely, obviously making way for my own twists and turns to really make the story my own. There will also be nods to other horror movies, so try and spot them!

And yes, I have an insane amount of fun writing those articles at the beginning of each story! I love writing them…because I write for my school paper in real life. I get a kick out of it.

Enjoy!

-**START**-

After almost three days, the headline of the next newspaper read after Loki's departure for the manor, _**Norwegian Detective Heads into Woods, No Further News is Heard, June 16**__**th**__**, 1897.**_

_Many efforts have been made to contact Mr. Loki Laufiyarson, a detective who recently took leave to a castle near the small town of Valghita Transylvania on June 13__th__, 1897.  
>A carriage reportedly took the detective to the manor late in the evening, although the coach driver himself was unfamiliar to the townspeople.<em>

"_He was an old man," a little boy said. "He looked just like my grandpa, only he's been dead for a long time, you know? Our town is pretty small, so we know everyone's face. I didn't recognize him."_

_Villagers have been told to keep an eye out for the detective and the three girls, of whom there has still been no trace since March 27__th__, 1897._

_Further details of the case have not been released to the public, but of the detective himself, he is presumably missing and authorities are accepting any details about the pending case._

"_I'm worried about that man," Gary Olgenstad, Valghita's police chief, said. "That detective only wanted to find our three girls, and now we can only hope that he returns safely. Part of me wonders if that Count took him hostage, but another parts of me wonders about that coach driver. No coaches were taken out of the city that day."_

XOXOXOXO

Heimdall's torch cast and eerie glow on the castle walls as he and the detective inched closer to the bedchamber. Now that Loki's stomach was full of food, he was considerably less cranky than before, but still puzzled by the Count's odd behavior. Heimdall had pretended to be considerate to the blonde made by making him dinner and taking his luggage, and yet, the genial attitude had dissolved at dinner at the mention of strange disappearances around the castle.

Not only was his behavior strange, but also his ghastly appearance. He looked like a corpse that had risen from a nearby graveyard, donned fresh clothes, and strutted off into the modern world. Eyes that shone like rubies and skin the shade of fresh cotton begged the question of what the man before Loki really was. If he was a human, he was indeed a strange one. He had a better chance of being an alien from another planet than a normal Count. He laughed at Heimdall's anomalous form louder than he intended. "What's so funny?" the purple-haired man hissed over his shoulder.

"Nothing…ignore me. I'm just talking to myself…detectives often do so when they analyze subjects. It's not uncommon."

"Hmph."

Heimdall mumbled something in a thick foreign dialect and continued to saunter down the hall.

Loki wouldn't say he was unattractive, but there were aspects setting off alarms in his head. The paleness, pointed ears and fangs…it was like something out of a bizarre fairy tale. He'd read a few books about a race of people know as vampires, but they were the monsters of legends. To associate his quirky host with something so foolish was an unprofessional act he refused to resort to, no matter how closely related they seemed to be.

Honestly, Heimdall as a vampire? While he might have been able to fathom the idea psychically, nothing else fit. It simply wasn't possible.

The heavy sound of wood hitting stone shook him from his daydream. They had apparently arrived at the room Loki would be living in; located high-up within one of the building's many towers.

Heimdall fastened the torch to the wall and led him inside, the cape around his body whispering in the midst of the silent room. While the room was very nice, Loki had to remember to keep his eyes peeled for anything concerning the missing girls. As Heimdall mentioned before, there were absolutely no reflective surfaces in the room, aside from the occasional brass handle on drawers, but nothing else seemed out of place. He'd check the walls and floor after the pesky Count took his leave, but to the naked eye, it was just a normal room. The whole room was build from stone with an attached bathroom, small dresser along the adjacent wall and a simple bed opposite the doorway.

"I trust it's to your liking?" Heimdall asked, stepping beside him to examine his reaction.

"Yes, the room is fine," he said cautiously, unsure why the purple-haired man had asked him about his opinion when they'd been doing nothing but insulting one another the entire walk up the tower. Hadn't they just established themselves as adversaries? "Your castle is beautiful" Loki remarked honestly. "Where is your staff? Surely you don't take care of this entire building by yourself…"

"I do."

"Hm. It must be quite a job."

The trickster's eyes danced along the walls for anything that might indicate foul play. A toppled object or small blood stain would be useful, if he could find it. To his dismay, everything was polished and scrubbed to perfection. This was going to be even more challenging than Loki had anticipated.

Heimdall smirked at how the detective looked around the room and adjusted the cufflinks on his sleeves. His hands were hit by the torchlight and, for the first time, the detective noticed the boniness if his fingers and wrists. "Not really. I live alone, and therefore, I only have to clean up my own mess. And now yours, of course," he said in a bitter voice that could have possible curdled milk. Loki ignored the verbal teasing and scanned the room again. There was just one more glaring oddity that the trickster felt like he needed to address. He lifted his finger and pointed to the room's only window, which was large enough for a human to stand in.

"Is it safe to have a window so big in here?" the detective asked condescendingly. "What if a guest fell out and hit the ground? A three-story fall wouldn't result in a gentle injury," Loki said, tilting his head like a confused hound as he examined the space with a critical eye. The Count didn't respond to the question directly, and simply told the detective that he didn't allow his sparse amount of guests to stand near the window, less the endanger themselves. He supposed that was reasonable enough.

It could also be a very effective way of killing someone without the risk of a murder weapon, Loki thought manically as his lips twisted into a smirk. He barely knew Heimdall and already he longed to dig up dirt and throw him in jail.

"I must leave now," the Count said suddenly, putting a hand on Loki's shoulder and drawing him away from the windowpane. Loki actually blushed at the feeling, but kept his head turned away. "I'll come and get you tomorrow evening. If you are hungry when you wake up, you have my permission to head to the dining hall. Breakfast will be there waiting for you." The watchman took his hand off of the trickster's shoulder and stepped back into the darkness, the outline of his cloaked form melting away as he descended the stairs, torch in hand.

"A-Alright, tomorrow then," he mouthed out, still recovering from the delicate touch he'd received from the Count. The area still radiated with warmth. Loki admitted that the Count's seemingly cold personality was significantly easier to stand because of his good looks. If he'd been a typical looking fifty-year-old, the blue-eyed detective would have probably murdered the Count himself out of annoyance.

The door finally shut. When he was sure that he was completely alone, Loki crossed his arms and frowned. "Fine, ignore me. You're not too nice, are you? I suppose I could forgive you for that…after all you've lived in isolation for a long time." The Fire God took off his jacket and waistcoat. He was cold without them, just standing there in his linen shirt and slacks, but the covers upon his simplistic bed would probably provide him with much-deserved comfort. He continued to talk to himself as he folded his clothes over the back of a wooden chair. "The poor man probably doesn't even remember what tenderness of love is. I'm willing to put up with him until I convict him of murder, then I'll happily snatch my dignity back from his hands. It'll be my best victory yet, no doubt. I simply cannot wait until morning…all this waiting is driving me crazy."

Loki walked back to the window to stare up at the moon to calm him. As he gazed upon the sultry white mass, his mind wandered back to Angerboda, his pregnant mistress. She was probably staring up at the same moon as him, and although they were miles apart that fact alone made him feel much closer to her.

While he wasn't marrying the woman, he still loved her. Not as an eternal partner, but as a woman, he greatly appreciated her beauty and grace. She was a great person, ideal in his eyes. Spica was both trusting and beautiful. He made the other women he'd slept with in the past, even the most dignified, look like cheap whores unworthy of even a second glance. Yet his love was returned by the Jotun woman, and he vowed to always protect both her and the growing responsibilities in her womb. How could he not? She was simply another motivation for him to finish the case, find the missing girls and return home. Hell, she was the only motivation. Nothing else mattered to him but his family…everything else in his life could be replaced, but not them. "I need to solve this damn thing and get back to real life…all this vampire nonsense is wearing on me…how horrid."

If Loki actually managed to become cordial with the Count, maybe he could extract more information about the occurrences. "That's absurd…while he is a fine specimen of man, he's got such a cloistered personality that I'm surprised he even allowed me to stay here."

As he moved away from the window and began to pack his clothes away in the armoire adjacent to the bed, such an amusing thought entered his mind that he had to cover his mouth to prevent a scream of laughter from erupting throughout the castle. "Imagine if I tricked that man into loving me to make him my pawn…." he snickered. "Honestly, us, lovers! What a horrible prank to play on someone so vulnerable…"

Loki changed into some lightweight pajamas and pulled the lace curtains over the massive window to shield his body from the incessant mountain breezes. The fire god hovered about his king-sized bed, admiring the glow the iridescent moon cast upon him. He wiggled into the covers and moaned in pleasure at the warmth they brought him.

"Hm…it would be crazy to try such a thing. Then again, if I end up going insane because of him, it will be perfect, huh?"

The Fire God suddenly noticed his choice of language and felt his entire face go red at the thought. "No…'it would', not 'it will.' I mean…it's not like we'll _actually_ become lovers. I might be losing my mind sooner than I had anticipated…" he laughed nervously, trying to erase the phrase from his memory.

As his cerulean eyes fluttered shut and silence consumed the bedroom, the shadow of a bat manifested behind the gauzy curtains. The trickster brushed the creature off and simply pulled the covers under his chin. He rolled over and allowed his sleepy head to fully sink into the pillow.

Thank goodness sleep consumed him at that moment, for if he'd turned back to the window, he would have certainly seen the bat flap its large wings and swoop down to a lower level of the castle.

Even more concerning, said creature had the same hypnotizing eyes as his host, blood red with pupils so tiny that one would need to be within inches of his face to catch a glimpse of them. The same ruby colored orbs that had greeted the detective now monitored his innocent dreaming, waiting for the perfect moment to make his move.

XOXOXOXO

The mischievous god had stayed awake far too long into the night to be awakened by the first rays of sun that touched his face. In fact, he slept hours into the day, not bothering to check his watch for the time. Loki simply enjoyed the comfort and solitude his makeshift room brought him in the otherwise dark, unfriendly castle.

Besides, Heimdall said he wasn't going to be available until dusk, so what was the point in getting up?

The trickster had planned to simply lounge in bed all day, but as the morning sun rose higher into the sky, the chirping of birds became a seemingly endless annoyance. He finally rose from his slumber and got up to changed into a gray waistcoat and trousers from his luggage, saving his clothes from the day before to be washed and dried. "Well…after I grab something to eat, I'll see if I can't snoop around to find more clues! Damn those stupid rules of his. I can still get my evidence and keep his trust as long as he doesn't catch me."

Heimdall had distinctively told him not to go anywhere else in the castle without his permission. He'd made that perfectly clear. But Loki was never one for following orders, especially from a stranger.

"What he doesn't know won't hurt him. Besides, if he's not guilty, then he doesn't have a thing to worry about, right?" Loki pondered, pulling on his crisp suit with remarkable speed and tact. He was clearly anxious for a new day of brain-busting deduction.

The detective grabbed a sapphire-colored ribbon from his nightstand and knotted it around his neck before walking out of his bedroom. He treaded lightly to avoid making any unnecessary noise. The medieval palace was actually quite glamorous during the daytime, with flowers in ornate vases and tapestries made from crushed velvet adorning the walls. The tall windows let in an ample amount of light and the elevated ceilings gave the building an almost airy feeling during the day. Loki hardly even recognized the dining hall, which had been drenched in blackness the night before. Now, everything seemed to sparkle with a life of its own.

The whole castle looked so different that the detective began to wonder if last night had simply been a dream. Had he fainted in the carriage, or did the wolves attack him and cause him to hallucinate from blood loss? Still, the fact that there was food on the table and that the Count was missing proved that the events hours before were not mere illusions.

Loki sat down and began to feast upon a tray of mixed fruits hungrily. He stuffed a peach in his mouth and reached deep inside his pocket for two things; a pencil and small notebook he'd brought for quick observations. Scribbling down the moments of his mundane awakening, he was jolted out of thought by the sudden clanging of a door in the distance. The sound resembled a crate falling down stairs.

Is someone else here, he thought hysterically. The strange sound was setting him off. Was someone besides the Count taking refuge in the caste without his knowledge? If this was so, he could be the killer that Loki lusted for so greatly.

Loki raced from his seat so fast that his chair toppled to the floor. He ran towards a door at the opposite end of the room and wrenched the knob with both hands. The brass handle refused to turn for the trickster, no matter how much pressure he was able to exert upon it. "Huh, it's locked? What the hell?" he roared, ramming his shoulder against the bolted surface over and over again. "Hey, I hear you! Unlock this door!"  
>The blue-eyed man then slapped the door with his hand, alternating between a balled fist and an open palm.<p>

After minutes of unrelenting pounding and slamming, Loki sank to the ground in an exhausted defeat. He stared down at his bloodied hands and knew that the only way out of the dining hall was to go back the way he came. There were other exits along the way. Laufiyarson slid back to his chair glumly and devoured more food out of anxiety. He was becoming even more suspicious of Heimdall's unnecessary secrecy. He couldn't complain though, considering it was easier to prove somebody guilty rather than innocent. The whole situation was turning into a game of strategy.

My favorite, he laughed inwardly, hissing slightly through his grinding teeth.

He'd only taken a few bites of lobster before realizing that there were more bedrooms between the dining room and his chamber, room that held possible evidence. He listened for any other noises as he rose and exited the dining room, walking back up the stony spiral staircase. When the Fire God finally came to another room, he tugged on the handle furiously. It was locked.

He ran to a few other rooms, twisting the knobs and tugging on the handles, but to no avail.

It was enough that the watchman had forbidden him to look around without his permission, but then he even had the nerve to lock all the doors. "That asshole….even if he's not guilty, I'll find some way to lock him up!" he cursed, as if the Count was before him listening to the tirade. "Where does he go in the middle of the day anyway?" Loki asked himself, letting his imagination wander as he made his way through the hallways and catacombs of the mansion, tugging on every doorknob he passed. "I bet that's where he keeps his victims. Yes, he probably tortures them to death and bathes in their blood…just like that one Hungarian serial killer…" he said, the name escaping him. "She was accused of being a vampire as well, wasn't she? Her name was…"

The thought was interrupted by an offset in pressure. At last, Loki came to an unlocked door and pushed it with the same force he had before. This excessive gesture sent the door flying open and also sent his handsome face flying into the floor. The middle of his forehead began to bleed from the impact. "Fuck…if I get out of here with my sense, I'm so suing his ass!"

He got up and brushed the dirt off his knees with a muffled sigh of aggravation, failing to notice the contents of the dark room. It was only when he stepped forward and his shoe nudged a pile of parchment that he'd realized he'd literally stumbled upon Heimdall's library.

"Talk about luck," he laughed, checking over his shoulder to make sure the coast was clear of all undesired persons. When nobody was there, he seized the opportunity like a hungry animal before his vulnerable prey.

While it looked like a chamber stuffed with books to a normal person, Loki saw mounds of evidence just waiting to be discovered. Blue eyes like dewy sapphires, the detective dashed forth and threw the windows open to allow nature's light permission into the musty space. As pounds of dust swirled through the air, Loki found a creaky table to use as a home base. Throwing a random assortment of manuscripts, journal entries and novels upon the surface allowed him to better analyze the material from a bird's eye view. Sadly, upon further inspection, he deemed all of the literature completely useless.

The man eyed a scrap of paper on a side table and picked it up, fingering it delicately between the tips of his fingers. "What's this? It's an old diary entry…and it's from March, back when the girls disappeared."

_Journal Entry, March 19__th_

_Now that spring has officially begun, I miss the cold of the castle during the winter. The airy, spring scent of disgusting gardenia through these walls is simply appalling. I miss the darkness and cold. It makes it much easier to sleep at night._

_The heat makes me more irritable each and every day. _

_My three guests love the weather. All they do is prance around under the moon and roll in the flowers, thinking them to be captivating minxes. Honestly, I don't know why I put up with such foolish ladies…_

_And hopefully I won't need to for much longer._

The entry puzzled him. "Wait…he had three female guests? This entry is dated days before the girls were reported to be missing. Is he…talking about the three women from the village?"

The paper was folded neatly and tucked into the pages of his small notebook.

"Did he leave this room unlocked on purpose to tease me?" he murmured in disbelief, his hands starting to shake. He held them close and began to wring them. "Oh…shit."  
>He paced back and forth while wringing his hands furiously. No, I can't think like that, he thought to himself, returning to the bookcases and raiding them frantically. Books crashed to the floor and pages fluttered away from their spines. The fire god's heart beat became so loud that it was starting to pound in his ears. If Heimdall had anticipated this to happen, then he was as dead as a fly in a spider's web. There was no going back.<p>

He half-expected the man to be smirking smugly in the hallway when he turned around.

"What if he left something here on accident? This is the only unlocked room. Something's got to be here," he muttered uneasily. When he'd cleaned out the entire bookcase and left the shelves as bare as can be, he lifted a finger to his chin in thought, making delicate strokes along his jaw line. He fanned his hands out across the wall as if he was searching for something. The ends of his fingers wiggled in between every crack or crevice as he painstakingly searched for any kind of secret passage or hidden door. It seemed random for him to do something so silly. But aft what had already happened, he concluded he was the least farfetched entity in the castle.

Contrary to popular belief, Loki wasn't just a detective, but an avid reader of poems, sonnets and any fairy tale imaginable. There were always stories where the protagonist would reach a dead end, only to be released by one of two things.

One, death.

Two, a secret door.

The latter was much more appealing to the egoistic trickster, understandably.

While he didn't know what would happen over the next few days, one thing was certain. Even if he was unable to prove Heimdall guilty of any punishable crime, Loki was going to survive. If he was going to die, he wanted some romantic death, not the utter humiliation of rotting in a gaudy castle.

"Every serial killer keeps a memento, so where is his?" he fumed as his hand reached for a huge dictionary. As he threw it to the ground, the flimsy spine fractured and sent three pounds of pages across the room. Loki jumped back in surprise. Most of the book's content was scattered on the ground, but the spine was still lodged in the corner of the shelf and, with a swift tug, a section of wall collapsed on itself and revealed a secret passage. Watching in both horror and ecstasy as his lead manifested before him, he kneeled down on the floor to pick up the scattered pages, studying the deepness of the catacomb.

It was pieces of evidence like this the allowed Loki's suspicions to grow.

Because, honestly, why would anyone need a secret passage if they weren't trying to keep secrets?

XOXOXOXO

By the time the watchman was supposed to return to Loki's room (around dusk, if he remembered correctly), he'd somehow managed to clean the disheveled library and hide the secret passage he'd found by sliding another bookcase over it. Loki figured he'd examine it in more detail later, when he had more time. He raced back to his chamber and documented a quick journal entry before a knock came at his door.

Before he could object, Heimdall, attractively dressed in a black suit, waistcoat and matching English cape, entered. He let his eyes wander around the room and then fall upon the still panting trickster. "What are you writing?" he asked, claws reaching for the notebook.

Loki snatched it away from him playfully, locking the pad safely in a desk drawer. "Just a diary entry," he sneered, casting his eyes sideways to glance coldly at the man. "It gives me something to do while I'm locked up like a domestic animal all day, you know?"

Heimdall's expression remained stoic, but Loki could tell he'd pissed him off.

"I told you not to go anywhere without my permission. Frankly, I'm glad I locked the doors because you clearly can't follow rules."

"Do you really want to resort to childish arguments?" Loki asked, as if it wasn't already his specialty. He lifted his brow and stood up, arms crossed and face merely inches away from the Count's. While the gesture was meant to be more taunting, it ending up being extremely suggestive. They were so close that the trickster was unable to see the Count's gaze running up and down his collar and neck, studying his skin and pulse with a seemingly experienced eye.

"I trust you'd like to discuss the details of the case with me?" Heimdall finally questioned, red eyes being torn away from his neck and up to the detective's face where they smoldered with annoyance. Clearly, both adults were extremely effective at pushing each other's buttons.

"Yes, actually. Thank you."

Heimdall began to lead Loki away from his room slowly, navigating the maze of a castle with ease. He followed, staring at the back of the count's head the entire time. "Hey," he asked as they meandered their way to Heimdall's personal study. "Do you have a library here, Heimdall?"

He wanted to see if the supposed vampire would own up to having a secret passage, or even admit why he left the library door on locked. Something as simple as that would be a sufficient answer. Was it just simply an accident, or was it on purpose? Loki desperately wanted to know. "Well…why don't you tell me? Elaborate on your unique living arrangements."

"…Yes. You should know…I left the door unlocked."

Shit.

"Do you believe that would be a better meeting place?" Heimdall asked, turning around with a cocky grin plastered upon his face. "Or is it because you wanted to talk about the passageway to my basement you so rudely broke into?"

Fuck.

"H-How did you know I…I…" he stammered, face flushing as the man placed a clawed finger upon his lips. "Please don't touch me," he ridiculed, readying to slap his hand across the watchman's face. The Count caught the gesture and chuckled in amusement.

"You'd dare slap your host?"

"A host? You liar!" he spat, stepping back a few paces in the dim hall. Now was the perfect time to unleash his anger upon the man who'd imprisoned him so wrongly. "You have no right to call yourself a host when all you've done is held me captive! You continue to go about your business while I'm locked away like a hostage! I'll conduct my investigation elsewhere…so **let me go**."

All during the speech, a cat-like smirk never ceased. Heimdall was almost about to laugh at Loki's childish behavior. In fact, he was almost sure he'd burst out into a roar of laughter at any moment. "A prisoner? A hostage? Detective, you're still a little boy on the inside, aren't you?"

"I will kill you," he retorted, swiveling on his heels and marching back up the stairs to his bedroom. "I'll pack my belongings and leave tonight." After telling Heimdall off so harshly, he didn't expect the Count to ever want to speak with him again. That's why, when Heimdall grabbed his hand and pulled him back to the study, he was in total disbelief. Loki would have started hollering and throwing punches, but it was useless considering the lack of other beings in the castle. And if anyone else was being held in the castle, it was very unlikely they'd be concerned enough to come to his aid.

Just as he was about to silence him with another rant, Heimdall clapped his hand over Loki's mouth and laid his squirming body over the surface of his desk. Looming over him dangerously, the watchman stared at the man with a tepid stare…one that almost seemed lifeless from such a close distance.

"All you think about is the case. You want answers about it? Well, here they are…I do know where the girls are, but I didn't kill them. In fact, they willingly gave their lives to me in order to become my brides," he said slowly, watching Loki's eyes go wide.

No, the trickster thought. How is that even possible?

Heimdall elaborated further. Now that Loki had heard about the fate of the girls…he couldn't withhold the truth anymore. "The reason I lock the doors is so you don't see them, and also because they could kill you. How? Well, they're vampires, like myself."

This couldn't be happening.

Loki just stared up at the man, mouth silenced and eyes frightened. Even though the Fire God was clearly speechless, Heimdall couldn't allow him to scream as a result of what he would do next.

"I never needed a detective, yet they sent you here to solve something I already know. I feared you would be too smart and solve the case, and now that you know all this, I can't let you go home."

Loki was too stunned to even hear most of Heimdall's words. He now had reason to fear for his life and, now that he was almost certain he was going to die, his skin turned white and his body went limp. Hand still covering the trickster's mouth, Heimdall leaned in and prepared to penetrate Loki's collar. The misty-eyed detective realized the man's motives and tried to push him away, yelping through his covered mouth. The man was attempting to suck his blood. Through the cracks in Heimdall's fingers he hissed violently, "**You bastard…get your hands off of me…"**

Heimdall's hips grinded against Loki's as he bent over him, the blonde gasping in ecstasy at the intimate gesture. The area between his legs bulged with lust. "Don't worry…" Heimdall reassured, delicately placing butterfly kisses along Loki's face until his hand landed near the trickster's slightly tanned collarbone. "It'll make you feel wonderful, detective…"

When the fangs entered his hot, pulsing flesh, Loki's whole face blushed with pure desire. He moaned and bit Heimdall's fingers to display the extent of his sexual agony, but the watchman just kept sucking and licking, massaging the bloody area with his love-swollen tongue. "Ah…stop…" Loki begged, his cries turning into muffled gasps. This was wrong! This was not what was supposed to happen at all! "H-Heimdall…ah….I'll…kill you!" he threatened in such a perfunctory manner that the vampire watchman didn't bother to respond.

"Forgive me…" he whispered as Loki slid off the desk like a rag doll. "And sweet dreams, my little prisoner."

**-END-**

So, this is where the book and fan fiction really separate. As for the movie…well, I haven't seen it. I only had to see the DVD cover before I laughed and put it back on the store shelf. I felt like reading the book was enough, you know? XD

So…more rambling? Why not?

I haven't uploaded in a while, obviously. But it's only because I'm too lazy to upload anything…I've been writing a lot and probably have over 15 things I could put up today. Alas, that is too much of a pain in the ass, so we shall spread things out. Besides, I have six RPs going on and must reply to each! Au revoir!


	3. Out of Sight

Title: Goodnight, My Light

Pairing: Loki x Heimdall

Rating: K

Disclaimer: Neither Dracula or Malora are mine, so please don't think I created either, mmm'kay?

Author's Notes: Alrighty, what we have here is completely different from the novel. From this point on…oh man…this is going to be a lusty crackfest.

Well, I just hope you all enjoy chapter three! Don't be afraid to flame (well, anything but the pairing…)

**-START-**

_**Reward Offered!**_

_Detective and three village girls go missing around hilltop manor._

_Authorities are rewarding sums of money to anyone with information on the four missing adults._

_Detective Loki Laufiyarson and three village women, all sisters, are still believed to be missing somewhere in the forest outside the small town of Valghita.  
>An unlicensed carriage reportedly picked up the detective and, since then, there has been no trace of the man.<em>

_Months have passed by, and while authorities are trying everything possible, it looks like the case may go cold within a few days. _

_If the four are not located by December 18__th__, 1897, they will be deemed dead. _

Loki laid in his bed the rest of the night in delirium. He tried for an infinite amount of time to stop blushing and figure out a way to escape the castle with his life. "Stop," he told himself firmly. "You can't let that haughty bastard win…"  
>Heimdall was a vampire, and the missing girls were apparently the same kind of monster as him…but the Count had already said he couldn't go home, so why did the case still matter to him? He would forever be the watchman's reluctant prisoner unless he found a way out or some outside force interfered with his schemes.<p>

He became his prisoner that very second he appeared on Heimdall's doorstep. Then, as another smack to the face, the violet-haired man had the gall to touch him and suck his blood.

Well, the latter had been a more erotic experience, but he digressed.

"That bastard was messing with me. He thinks I'm powerless enough to believe all that vampire crap!"

He pressed a balled fist to his forehead. The trickster's body was damp with sweat and his teeth had almost become permanently clenched from the affair.  
>Heimdall had left him in the room after the encounter, allowing the blood from his neck to create a rose-colored patch on the carpet below him. He'd then gotten up and walked to his room, dizzily teetering like a zombie.<p>

Now, as the day approached, he was vulnerable…and alone.

"What now? I feel like I'm about to faint…"  
>Loki continued to lay sprawled out on his bed, pondering his limited options. He replayed the conversation he had with Heimdall the night before in his mind, probing the words for any clues or phrases that might have tipped him off about his next course of action.<p>

Whatever it was supposed to be.

Yes, he did remember the watchman mentioning the vanishing girls, and he called them his 'brides.'

"What's he running, a harem? This can't be real…but if it is, then that means the girls have to be…"

Realization hit him like a sack of bricks. Loki jumped up from the bed a few seconds later and had an epiphany that could very well save his life. "He said the brides lived here. If I can find them, it may put me in danger, but I'll have least taken a step forward. Hell, it's better than wallowing…"

He quickly threw his blood soaked clothes on the floor and rummaged through the dresser for dry clothes. He skipped the waistcoat and pulled on a simple white shirt and brown trousers. Even though the Count had forbidden the use of reflective objects in the manor, he had secretly managed to hide a pocketknife in his suitcase in case of emergencies. He took the blade in one hand and a lantern in the other, just in case he didn't come back to his room before dark. The blonde man cautiously stepped out of his bedroom and closed the door as silently as possible.

If the women were anything like their master, chances were the trickster wasn't going to catch a glimpse of them until dusk.

I just can't believe all this vampire claptrap is true, he thought to himself as he ran a hand through his flaxen hair. It was complete nonsense told to make pesky children behave at night. This didn't happen in real life and it _certainly _wasn't supposed to happen to him.

Still dizzy from blood loss, Loki leaned against a nearby wall and slid to the floor in agony. "That bastard…I don't care how hard it is…I'll find a way to press charges against….him…" he said in a woozy voice. His cerulean eyes grew glassy and more distant before, eventually, he passed out.

As he slipped free of his conscience, he could have sworn he'd seen a shadow lurking behind a pillar at the end of the hall. Loki reached out his hand towards the figure, but his body fell cold. The world grew dark and the cloaked figure faded without a sound.

XOXOXOXO

"Ohhh….he's handsome. Let me have him, please, sister Verdandi?" a high-pitched voice cooed, her lips mere inches from his face. Loki squinted in response to the sound and groaned, rolling his head over his shoulder. "Ah, I woke him!"

"Now look at what you've done," a more distant voice said. This voice belonged to a more mature woman who, while older than the other girl, still contained enough youth to sound kind and generous. There were other sounds that followed her statement as well. Such noises were the sound of clinking glassware, bubbling liquids and even the faint squeal of steam escaping from some kind of heated container.

Just when the Fire God thought the conversation was over, another feminine voice contributed to the discussion.

"Mind your manners, ladies. He's probably exhausted after Heimdall sucked so much of his blood…"

She took his head and placed it in her lap tenderly. The woman ran a hand across his icy cheek and planted a kiss on his temple. Loki didn't dare open his eyes to catch a glimpse at the three women. He assumed they were the missing girls. He prayed they were and that he could round them up and ship them home as fast as possible without having to come face-to-face with Heimdall again. Meanwhile, the older sister continued ignorantly, "Still, you are right, Skuld. He's very beautiful…no wonder Heimdall wanted him all to himself."

"Verdandi, what are you doing over there? You can't be serious about performing experiments on him…he's unconscious and completely helpless."

Loki felt his face run pale and had to tense his entire body to prevent himself from scrambling to his feet and shouting a mouthful of insults at them.

"Yes, he's such a fine specimen," she said dreamily, swaying back and forth comically as she ranted on about the perfection of her test subject. "First, I'll cut open his head and examine his brain and then I'll drain his blood into test tubes and skin his corpse, then I'll…"

"**Hell no,"** Loki declared with a swift smack of his wrists across the woman's white hand. "Get. Away. From. Me." The three women jumped up at his reaction and giggled crazily. The youngest one even seemed to dance in joy at his sudden revival.

"I knew he'd wake up sooner or later!" Skuld said with her fingers clasped in front of her lips. Verdandi nodded and tossed her chestnut colored hair over her shoulder with a cackle.

"A little scare is good for everyone once in a while!"

The three women laughed and Loki felt the urge to punch them. "You…you…" he said through grinding teeth. "Who are you? Don't tell me…you guys are the stupid brides Heimdall was talking about…."

"That's us," Urd said in a nauseatingly sweet singsong. Loki turned white as a sheet and almost fainted again. Thankfully, Skuld soared to his aid and caught his hand, pulling the handsome man into her arms.

"…It's just like I dreamed it," she said as she wrapped her arms around him. As she cuddled into the crook of his neck, Loki sat back and slowly felt a vein pulse in his neck.

"There's no way," he said bluntly after a few seconds of awkward silence. The women blinked in unison, confused by his statement. Skuld even scratched her head like a monkey in a zoo, observing humans from the other side of glass. "I really must be losing my senses…" he said drearily.

"What do you mean?" Urd asked him. "Didn't you come here looking for the missing girls? If you have a brain, you should be able to put two and two together, detective…"

"Don't patronize me!" he squawked angrily, his body starting to rise and tense in a way similar to the ruffling of a bird's feathers. He stomped towards them and watched the three women giggle, like his presence was some sick joke. Even though Loki was always at the demand of a woman's wishes (as so many back home knew), there was no way in hell these three were going to mock him so openly.

"Are you telling me that you three are the girls that vanished from the village?" he asked with narrowed eyes.

"Yes," all three said at the same time. "But we didn't vanish, we came here on our own," the brown haired scientist said.

The oldest woman saw the flummoxed look on Loki's visage and told him to make himself comfortable. After all, it was a very long story, and as dizzy as the Fire God already was, they didn't want him fainting again and falling on his beautiful face.

Verdandi returned to her chemistry set and tinkered with some flasks in burners as she talked. "We never liked living in the nearby village, so we decided to run away from home. We ended up here when Heimdall, the Count, let us stay freely. We had no idea at the time, but he did have unusual quirks…such as not allowing reflective objects inside the castle, or only holding a conversation with you once the sun was down. But I'm sure you know that," she teased in a low voice that made Loki hiss.

"Just shut up and keep talking."

He tried to ignore the pigtailed girl swooning in his lap to the best of his ability, although she was extremely adorable.

"Alright Mr. Detective, be patient. As time went by, we'd discovered that we were Heimdall's prisoners. Everything we ever did was on his schedule, and with time, we all discovered that we would never leave this mansion alive."

Loki swallowed and touched the slightly inflamed area on his neck where Heimdall had tasted his blood the day before. Skuld looked up and saw the trickster's face turn pink as his fingers caressed the raised area, but she didn't know why.

"One night, we ventured outside our room during the day and went to the basement, where he told us never to go. Until that day, he never locked any of the doors like he does now."

"Sorry about that," Urd said casually with a hint of laughter in her tone. Loki flared with silent anger. So that was why.

"Anyway," the hazel-eyed woman continued. "He was enraged and told us we could never leave after learning about who he really was."

"…A vampire…?" the trickster asked, treading as carefully as possible.

"Correct. He drank our blood and we had been bound to him since…" she was about to finish when Loki shot up from the floor so fast that Skuld almost flew into the air from the force.

"Wait a minute. Bound forever? So, if he sucked my blood…that means…?"

"That means," Urd said, cradling her sister Skuld. "It means…congratulations, Mr. Detective. You are now one of Heimdall's brides!" she said happily, clearly enjoying his pain.

His reaction to those fateful words was slow and almost unresponsive, but as soon as the phrase clicked, his anger turned into complete (and very comical) terror.

"You're joking."

"Nope," all three women said. "He must really like you, to drink your blood so soon. Well, you should get ready for the wedding in a few weeks. There, you'll be trapped here forever, offering both _your blood_ and your _fine body _to Heimdall!"

Again, as if for the billionth time, the fire god slipped into a comatose state, but it wasn't blood loss that induced it.

**-END-**

Well, I just hope you guys like it. Next, I'm doing my Loki x Heimdall gender bender. Yesh, it's coming. I'm a very straight female, but aren't Loki and Heimu as girls a pretty picture? It's so lovely! (Evil cackle) I'm a little yuri fangirl.

Oh, and I'm doing Hetalia fan fiction for Germany x Italy and US x UK, Spain x Romano…with some minor Hungary x Austria (who cares if they're divorced, Hungary shall never go with Prussia) and random Taiwan thrown it. XD;

So, if you like Hetalia, look forward to it! Farwell!


	4. White Knight

Title: Goodnight, My Light

Rating: T

Pairing: Loki x Heimdall (with a little Loki/Spica)

Disclaimer: MaLoRa is Sakura Kinoshita's property and Dracula is property of Bram Stoker.

Author's Notes: Ah, Winter Break is coming to a close. Did you all have fun? I did! I had a very Merry Christmas and I hope you all had very happy holidays as well! Enjoy chapter 4 as a late Christmas gift! (Toasts with champagne)

I almost feel silly writing something like this when I know there are almost no Loki x Heimu fans to enjoy it anymore. Ah, well. Cheers!

**-START-**

Months passed without news of the detective's condition. Angerboda's worry was swelling in sync with her pregnant belly and, every night her companion was away, she prayed for his safety.

She debated even venturing to the small town herself, but knew it would be too strenuous a trip on her and her three babies. She simply tried to distract herself with letters and her friends, seeking every drop if love she could squeeze from their bodies to suffice for Loki.

Even then, nothing helped much.

One night she decided to write a letter to the town of Valghita in hopes that, somehow, she might have a better chance of reaching her lost friend.

She penned the entire thing by hand, only stopping once or twice to breathe through the painful kicking the babies inflicted upon her sore womb.

_Dearest Loki_,

_I know you are still alive, although I have not heard from you in weeks. It frightens me greatly that you could be suffering somewhere without anyone's assistance. It even pains me to comprehend, let alone believe as I write these words to you._

_If this letter reaches you, and I know it will, I want you to know that I'll always love you. In another life, I'd want to be your loving wife for eternity. And I'd keep you safe from whatever is captivating you now._

_Please write me back. The four of us want to know that you're safe and warm. I'll try to come to you as soon as possible._

_Your loyal and loving mistress,_

_Angerboda_

XOXOXOXO

Time passed at an excruciatingly slow rate in Heimdall's castle.

Loki was outfitted for wedding attire, much to his dismay, but didn't bother putting up a fight.

All he could do was try to find a way to escape while he still had options. There were many nights when he debated jumping out his bedroom window, but the three sisters followed him everywhere during the night. He had absolutely no privacy.

Even worse, it was becoming increasingly difficult to stay awake during the day. The fact that Heimdall had sucked his blood was troublesome enough, but his changing behaviorisms made it even more difficult.

After weeks of maddening pain, Loki finally resolved that going out in sunlight was too painful and only spoke to Heimdall and the three sisters under the light of the tantalizing moon.

One night, Loki decided that, after enough misery and horror, he wanted to escape again. Or at least have some contact with the outside world. Either was fine. But being locked up like some animal made him crazy.

He proposed the idea to Heimdall cautiously, aware that he could overreact and initiate another overly-erotic move. "Listen, Heimdall," he said, gently lowering his cup of cranberry açai tea onto the angelic, white china. The two were having a short dinner together on one of the castle's back porches, away from prying eyes but still romantically under the blanket of stars. It disquieted Loki, and his discomfort was palpable. Heimdall didn't care in the slightest.

"Yes, my future lover?"

"Stop," he barked, growling. "Listen, I want to write a letter to my mistress. Just one. Please."

He needed to talk to her...he needed to know how his three children were fairing without him. Even if he could only have a minute, he was willing to beg the watchman for it.

Loki looked to the ground to hide the sadness in his eyes, but Heimdall still managed to see it under the starlight. The frown upon Loki's beautiful face tucked at his normally stiff heartstrings and made his face fall with realization. "…Are you going to leave here?"

Loki glanced at him hesitantly. "N-No."

"Then yes. Would you like to write it now?" the purple haired man asked, sticking his fork in another morsel of duck and lifting it to his mouth. Stunned by the brevity of his answer, Loki kept alert and stared at him with awe to hear the rest of the answer. When there was no catch to his statement, the blonde man only shook his head and felt a smile crawl to his lips.

"Uh…no. After dinner."

Very well."

Both ate in silence for a few more minutes, flashing quick looks at one another as they filled their stomach with food. "So," Heimdall said, wiping the corners of his mouth with a napkin. "You and your mistress…do you have children?"

The trickster almost choked at the question but, after a few coughs, managed to nod. He told him of Angerboda and what she meant to him. How much he missed her and wanted to write to her. "This isolation," he began solemnly, smiling handsomely from across the small table. "It isn't bad…and although it kills me to admit it, I've grown to feel safe here."

Not like, but feel safe.

"She's…the only thing that's making this transition really hard. Do you…understand?"

"No," Heimdall lied swiftly, looking at the trickster with longing. But if Loki left now, he'd undoubtedly feel some sort of emptiness. Perhaps even heartbreak. "Loki…I have something for you."

Heimdall slipped his long fingers under the folds of his jacket and pulled out a folded piece of parchment. It was dated from just a few days ago, but it was addressed to him. "I don't understand," Loki said quickly as the watchman dropped the letter in his lap. His slender fingers unfolded the crisp paper and he read his mistress's name at the bottom. His cerulean eyes widened in amazement. "This…you're giving it to me? But it was postmarked a few days ago…"

"I…go to town at night sometimes to get supplies," he admitted with a disinterested sip of tea. "I can have my food delivered, but things like paper, ink and books must be bought. I fly there once a week."

"Fly?"

"Of course," he continued bluntly. "I happened by the post office on my trip and found letters scattered on the ground. Your letter was apparently in an undeliverable pile. It was thrown out with the garbage out back…the wind almost carried it into the river. I didn't want to show it to you, but I feel like I can trust you enough."

Loki didn't hear what Heimdall was saying. He opened the letter and read her womanly cursive with great interest, almost looking dethatched from the words as he read her honey-sweet words. "T-Thank you," he said wearily. He folded the paper and placed it inside his pocketbook. Heimdall watched his sensual fingers at work, studying every movement with great depth. "I mean it. That was very kind of you."

"No it wasn't," Heimdall remarked with a snide grin. "I'm just tempting you. You're going to be my future lover, so I have to sweeten our pot a little."

Loki smirked and lifted his brow into a perfect, blond crescent. "Is that all? Really?"

"…Of course."

XOXOXOXO

_Dear Spica,_

_Your pretty words have given me nothing but blissful hope for myself. While I'm here in Valghita, I'll cherish them._

_I received your letter through the help of someone very special to me. But you have no need to worry. My first few months with him were quite awful, but I've grown to appreciate him. I'm safe and warm, so do not let sorrow blossom on you radiant face._

_What I have to say now pains me. _

_I will probably not see our children for some time. Please, when you bring them into this world, be careful and give them enough tenderness and love to suffice for the both of us. I cannot see you for a long while, but I'll always remember you and will fight every moment to be with you again._

_I'm so sorry, my love._

_Deepest apologies, _

_Loki_

**-END-**

I love Spica x Loki x Heimdall, although Kinoshita does solidify they have a sexual romance going on, but not a lifetime partnership. I'd love if they did! XD

I've been on Tumblr all day, of course. It's so addicting…I really must learn to distance myself. XD;


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